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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447563">this heart bleeds red and yellow.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/simmilarly/pseuds/simmilarly'>simmilarly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Despicable Me (Movies), Minions (2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Interspecies Romance, Minions, Other, Violence, god i hate myself, minion violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:54:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/simmilarly/pseuds/simmilarly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeffrey goes in to interview notorious killer Stuart the Minion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bob the Minion &amp; Stuart the Minion, Bob the Minion/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this heart bleeds red and yellow.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let me just apologize right from the start.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I watched him speak in his minion gibberish to the guard at the door of the meeting area. The correct terminology was Minionese, my countless hours of research had taught me that, but at that moment, my nerves and innate hatred of the creature walking towards me boiled his entire language down to gibberish. </p><p>What was I doing here? Why did I agree to work on this documentary, knowing full well that the pure sight of this yellow pill-shaped thing would incite waves of rage and bloodlust in me? I mean, realistically, I knew that this face-to-face meeting would be the moneymaker for the documentary, but that didn’t make me any more excited to finally meet Stuart. This potato was the reason my fiance was dead. </p><p>Tears filled my eyes at the mere thought of my fiance. Bob, I thought to myself as I stared at the murderer, I love you. I miss you. Give me the strength I need to get through this. </p><p>“Jeffrey?” He had finally reached me. It only took you fifteen full minutes to walk ten feet, you piece of shit. The short legs and tiny feet of minions were once endearing to me; now they and everything about them just filled me with rage and despair. </p><p>“Thank you for meeting with me,” I gritted out. “Shall we get started with the interview?”</p><p>“No need to look so heated,” he snickered, no trace of remorse on his face. Though why would he put his remorse on display for me? He didn’t know who I was. He didn’t know how his crime affected me. “I’m a hero, not a monster. I rid the world of a traitor. Even your kind should thank me for his removal; I understand his, ah, ‘coupling’ with one of you humans caused quite a stir.” </p><p>Smug bastard. </p><p>“Right. Let’s get started.” I frowned, reading through the questions I was tasked with asking. “How did you find yourself in Milwaukee, to begin with?” </p><p>The Minion Murder of Milwaukee had prompted all sorts of outrage and controversy and now, two years later, people were still baffled at the nature of the crime. That’s why this documentary was being made, in any case. In case you’re one of the few who hadn’t heard of this until now, let me fill you in. </p><p>After Felonius Gru released the minions that wanted more out of life than being, well, minions, the now-free yellow creatures were now a part of the general Milwaukee population. That’s where Bob and I had met; he came in to look for work at the deli where I worked. We hit it off right away, and a few months later, I proposed to Bob. I couldn’t yet entirely understand Minionese at that time, but the single eye in the middle of his round face told me all I needed to know about his answer. </p><p>Our engagement itself brought a lot of disgust and outrage our way. “A minion and a human?” People would whisper as we passed by, others would openly jeer and hurl insults. We paid them no mind. Cross-species relationships were no longer that big of a deal in our heads. After all, if it worked for Vanessa and Barry B. Benson, why couldn’t it work for us? Our world grew smaller until it was just the two of us, and we were happy that way. People could say what they wanted; we’d pay them no mind. Love wins, after all. </p><p>As it turns out, love doesn’t always win, at least, not in the long run. Shortly after we became old news, once the talk had died down (though it was still there, we weren’t idiots, we knew that haters were the ones leaving dead animals and angry letters outside the store), the crime occurred. I walked into the store one afternoon after my lunch break, having left Bob in charge of the store for the hour. The sight that greeted me caused all of my lunch to come back up. </p><p>There was produce all over the floor. The cash register was open– and empty– and Bob was nowhere to be seen. Well, not at first, anyway. I thought he might have been hiding behind the counter, or in the back, or on the shelves somewhere. Oh, how wrong I was. It was only when I felt a dripping on my head that I looked up. I fully expected there to be a broken pipe or something, but I looked up to the ceiling to find my darling minion fiance strapped to it, gutted open like a fish.</p><p>The police would later question me of all people, thinking I was the culprit for a long time. Why on earth would I kill my fiance? Why would I trash my own store? It made absolutely no sense, but I understood. They were grasping at straws. It took them a few months to gather up a new batch of suspects, but what struck me about their new lineup was that the majority of the suspects were humans. It made sense; humans were the most vocal about their hatred of the yellow beings. It was the one other being that surprised me the most, another minion. I would later learn that this minion’s name was Stuart. </p><p>“So, Stuart, how did the police catch up with you?”</p><p>“Well, Bob and I used to be good chums in our Gru-era.” He leaned back comfortably in the fold-out chair we had gotten for him, made especially for his diminutive stature. “They were going through his older contacts and found me. There were a few other minions that were rounded up by the police for questioning for this particular crime, but they had alibis that checked out. Me, my alibi was shit. I wasn’t really trying at that time, to be frank with you, because even back then some part of me wanted to claim this crime as my own. Though I’ll be honest, I enjoyed hearing about how Bob’s partner was sweating it out, being a suspect for his murder. As if that sissy would have it in him.” </p><p>Sissy, huh? “Did you ever meet the partner?” </p><p>He laughed, a cold, chilling sound. “No, nor do I care to.”</p><p>“Okay. Moving forward, what happened when they highlighted you as one of the main suspects?” </p><p>I’m not gonna share that maniac’s account. It isn’t incorrect or anything, but he shouldn’t get to share it; I’m the victim here. Once he was suspected and put into holding, he kept shooting out fake trails to the police. It wasn’t to save his ass or anything; he just really enjoyed watching everyone sweat and squirm and dance to his tune. Finally, though, he must’ve had enough as he straight up confessed. </p><p>“What exactly did you tell the police when you confessed?” </p><p>“Why should I tell you,” he smirked, rubbing his black-gloved hands up and down his bare calves. The squeak of the rubber was driving me insane. “Nah, I’ll tell you. This is fun. I told them that I’m the one that slaughtered the minion, just because I wanted to see what would happen and because he was a traitor anyway. If it were any other minion, I wouldn’t have done anything of the sort; not that I would necessarily succeed, because minions are resilient.” He paused here, and I got the sense that he was hiding something. “Bob was instrumental in the freedom movement. A batch of us wanted to be free to do crime again, as it was something we missed. Gru had us making jams and jellies of all things. Jams and jellies! They didn’t even taste good,” he grumbled.</p><p>He was growing agitated now; he kept slamming his hands down on the table, bouncing slightly on his chair. I was thankful for the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, but part of me feared that they wouldn’t be enough. Most humans are still woefully ignorant of just how tricky and flexible minions can be, but not me. I knew what minions were capable of. </p><p>“Well,” I said, feeling my brows knitting together on my forehead, “isn’t that why Gru’s brother moved out here?” </p><p>“That imbecile?” Stuart scoffed, amusement flitting over his face. “He knew next to nothing about crimes. What a dumbass. No, we wanted to pull off our own capers; we knew the ins and outs of crime, so why not do it ourselves?” </p><p>He paused, staring at the camera for a minute before turning back to me. I motioned for him to go on. Time was emotional stability, and I was losing both the longer I sat there. </p><p>“There was an uprising that led to us being freed from miniondom. Still, most of us were ecstatic about it. We later came to know that Bob wanted freedom for reasons that were completely different from ours.” An expression of disgust came across his face as he thought about what he was going to say next. “He wanted to work as humans did. He was fascinated by the human way of life. That was absolutely revolting to us, so naturally, we kicked him out.” </p><p>“You kicked him out of the group?” I thought he was already out of the group almost as soon as he escaped. That’s what he had said, at any rate. </p><p>“No,” Stuart said, a slow smile creeping across his face. “We kicked him out of life.” </p><p>It was as if I was at the scene of the crime again. I could feel my last meal creeping up my esophagus, but I fought to keep it down. “My God,” I whispered, trying to look anywhere but at the stone-cold killer across from me. “You don’t even care! You’re not even sorry.” </p><p>“I’m heralded as a hero among my people,” he laughed, standing up. “And among some of yours as well. Although I will admit my revulsion at his relationship with you played a big part in my decision to murder him and eat his organs.” </p><p>My blood ran cold as I took in his words. “His relationship with–” </p><p>“With you,” he grinned, laughing gleefully. “Did you think I didn’t know who you were? Granted, I didn’t at the time, but since being here I have learned quite a bit. And I truly do mean quite a bit. Your kind of humans revolt me, and I hope you’re the last of them because I intend to wipe out this depravity once and for all.” </p><p>He jumped onto the table and inched closer to me, just as I heard the increasingly rapid beeping that was coming from his chest. “Oh, fu–”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you read the whole thing, I don't know what to say to you. I'm not as depraved as you might think after this, I promise, it was solely for the cringe factor.</p><p>Thank you, you're welcome, and I'm sorry.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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